Realizations
by Piper Pippins
Summary: Dramione One-Shot. From that moment on, I only did things for the Dark Lord because I was told to, and I refused to acknowledge myself as one of them. From that moment on, as I've watched them torture and harass Hermione Granger, I had detested them; loathed them. From that moment on, I felt absolutely certain for my feelings for her, and not even Lord Voldemort can get in my way.


**Disclaimer: I own Harry Potter? I'll keep on dreaming.**

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Krum stood there, watching her, looking at her with complete adoration and longing in his eyes. He doesn't make it obvious, but every once in a while, I see him look up from his book, directing his attention to a certain girl with brown eyes, light skin, and brown, curly hair. I bet he didn't even pay attention to the book's title when he picked it out from one of the shelves. _Amoré: A Record of the Best British Soap Operas in the Last Century_. Honestly, it isn't what you would usually expect for the manliest, toughest, best Seeker in the world to be reading. She was with Potter, and to my delight, he actually looked bored to death. She was reading aloud from a thick, dusty book, and when I finally got tired of reading and was putting it back in the shelf next to them, I could make out one sentence: "I _really_ don't think they should've established that law in 1492, don't you, Harry?" I roll my eyes; I can't stop myself. "Having fun there, Potter?" I say with a smirk. I can't stand his very existence. "Pathetic, having to have Granger here read everything aloud to you. It's as if you've never learned to read. Hey Potter, remember what a _book_ is?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Don't mind him, Harry," she said. "He's only trying to catch your attention." Me? Catch Potter's attention? He wasn't even worth _mine_. The idea was so ridiculous, so I just laughed. "That's ridiculous, Granger. He's not something I would be quite interested in, thank you," I say. Hermione shook her head. "Just leave," she breathed out. I don't know why the sentence had cut through me like a knife blade. I realized: It hurt. Why? Because Granger thinks I'm not worthy of her company? Because she had just salvaged my pride? I've got to admit, I was exaggerating a bit there, but her words still hurt. I looked her in the eye, and I felt my features soften a bit because to me, they reflected the moon and the stars. They were beautiful. I looked away, and I felt my cheeks get hot.

Victor Krum approached the table, his book still in his hand. Hermione eyed it curiously, and when Krum noticed this, he himself looked at the cover, and he but it back in the shelf immediately, blushing furiously. Potter and I were snickering. "You go away," he said. "Before you cause trouble." I shot him a deadly look, turned my head in Potter's direction and smirked. I turned my heel, walked to the exit, but I guess my mind was really preoccupied at that time because I had went crashing straight at it. Head throbbing badly, I looked at Potter, seeing that he was laughing once again. "Hey Malfoy," he said. "Remember what a _door_ is?" I ignored the comment, opened the door and left without a single word.

That day, I found out that I felt something for Hermione Granger. But I'm still uncertain what it was.

* * *

The night of the Yule Ball, Weasley was looking absolutely ridiculous in his dress robes. It looked more like a dress that a robe, and it was complete with frills and laces and all that. I was about to approach him to make some smart comment about his attire, when my date dragged me to the dance floor. I hate dancing. I despise it. Numerous times, I've been forced to dance in the parties that my father always held at the manor. No matter how many times, I was taught how, I still ended up stepping on my partner's foot. My partner, Pansy Parkinson, had been stepped on countless of times, and I simply refused to stop because I wanted to show Fred or George Weasley, who had started laughing, how wrong he was to make fun of me. Git. Unfortunately, I stepped on her five more times, and she demanded to stop, claiming that she needed rest. As if. I'm a fantastic dancer, no matter how I detest dancing.

I was sitting down at our table, looking as miserable as Potter and Weasley, who were three tables away, when something walking past me had caught my eye. That "something" was wearing a periwinkle-blue dress, and her hair was up in an elegant knot. She was beautiful, I must agree, until someone called her name and she turned around. Hermione Granger. It seemed impossible, as Granger was _not _the type of person who would dress fancily. But there she was, looking as pretty as ever. It was Victor Krum who was calling her name. I felt a pang of jealousy. What? I am _actually_ jealous of Victor Krum? No, I can't be. But I feel as if I'm lying to myself. _Pull it together, Draco_, I thought to myself. My eyes follow Hermione's small figure, and I watch her dance with Victor Krum.

Still unsure.

* * *

Malfoy Manor. My manor. Apparently, it's been turned into a hellhole for the past few months, a place for the Dark Lord and his followers to seek refuge. He's demanded everything of us. My father's wand. My mum's belongings. Our gold. Our food. My parent's pride. And now, Bellatrix Lestrange is about to take mine. Hermione Granger is screaming with pain at the top of her lungs as my dear aunt tortured and taunted her. Harry Potter and Ron Weasley were downstairs at the cellar, Ron screaming Hermione's name like there's no tomorrow. She was questioned. She was questioned about the sword of Gryffindor. Bellatrix has done everything to get information out of her.

They had asked me earlier. Asked me to identify them. I couldn't, despite our history with one another. I don't know why I couldn't tell them, but I know that I'm too fed up already, that this was too much. I tried to be as vague as possible, thinking of it as a brave act of defiance against the people who had made my life a living hell. But it doesn't matter anymore anyway.

Bellatrix had used the Cruciatus curse on her. She emitted a screech of pain, and I could hear Ron banging on the door. "HERMIONE! HERMIONE!" he shouted. She was begging for mercy, and I myself was about to intervene in my aunt's taunting when they told me to fetch the goblin. I did as I was told, and my voice was shaking when I ordered the prisoners in the cellar to line up against the wall.

I stood there as they asked him. They asked if the sword was a fake. I didn't really care at that point, because my eyes were fixed on Granger. She was lying on the floor next to Bellatrix's feet, as motionless as a rock. "Mudblood" was carved into her flesh. It was sickening, the fact that I just stood there while they tortured her. There were plans of disposing of her, and at this I was about to draw my wand when I heard a sudden "NOOOOOOOO!" fill the room. Ron Weasley had burst in, aiming a disarming spell at Bellatrix. Harry Potter sprinted past us. "Stupefy!" he yelled, and my father collapsed onto the floor. Jets of light shot out of my wand, and Harry rolled behind a sofa to avoid being hexed.

"STOP OR SHE DIES!"

Bellatrix held a knife to Hermione's throat. "Drop your wands," she said in a deadly whisper. "Drop them, or we'll see exactly how filthy her blood is!" I probably wasn't allowed to drop my wand, but this was enough for me to lower my hand, unwilling to cast one more spell.

"I said drop them!" Bellatrix screeched. I had half a mind to run to Hermione's unconscious body, because Bellatrix had dug her knife in too deep, and beads of blood were starting to trickle out. When they finally obeyed her orders, she made me pick them up and give them to her. I hurried back to her with the wands. I barely heard a word she said before the chandelier fell on us. Shards of glass were everywhere. I doubled over, my hands clutching my bleeding face. Ron pulled Hermione out of the wreckage and Harry got all three wands in my hand.

It turned out Dobby, our old house-elf, was the one who brought down the chandelier. "You must not hurt Harry Potter," he squeaked. "Dobby has no master! Dobby is a free elf, and Dobby has come to save Harry Potter and his friends!"

"KILL HIM, CISSY!"

But they apparated out of sight, unfortunately taking Bellatrix's knife – the one she aimed at Dobby – with them.

I didn't care anymore. I didn't care about them–the Death Eaters. I understand what The Order is trying to accomplish. I understand why. From that moment on, I only did things for the Dark Lord because I was told to, and I refused to acknowledge myself as one of them. From that moment on, as I've watched them torture and harass Hermione Granger, I had detested them; loathed them. From that moment on, I felt absolutely certain for my feelings for her, and not even Lord Voldemort can get in my way.

Absolutely certain.

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**Take Note: "Unless someone like you cares a whole awful lot, nothing is going to get better. It's not." –Dr. Seuss**

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**A/N: Hello, It's Piper. Haha, this is my first romance fic in such al long time. I spent the day writing this one, and the idea simply refused to leave my head. Plus, I'm a bit stuck on what I want to happen next in my Albus Potter and the Basilisk of the Black Lake fic. I needed the book for reference, and it killed me to re-read Malfoy Manor. It was so action-packed, not to mention, ROMANTIC! I find everything romantic these days, don't judge me. It's a really dramatic scene, and one of my favorites in the book. **_**"All except… except for the Mudblood." **_**Really drew me in! I might update late tomorrow for Albus Potter; I haven't even started yet. Some dialogues here are by J.K. Rowling. Author out. -Piper **


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